


Close the door on your way out

by moonjockey



Series: The Jacket [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 23:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonjockey/pseuds/moonjockey
Summary: 5 times Hamilton left Washington. And one time he stayed.





	Close the door on your way out

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't plan on this being a series, but here we are.

1.

“Hamilton can you come in here for a moment?” Washington’s voice crackled over the intercom. 

Hamilton turned back towards his computer, finishing writing up a bill on his computer. Washington could wait. 

“You certainly took your time,” Washington said when Hamilton finally sauntered into his office.

Hamilton only shrugged. “I had work to finish.” 

Washington raised an eyebrow staring at him stoically. “Uh-huh.” 

Hamilton stood with an almost military like stance at the door. “What did you want, Washington?”

“We have a new client coming into today. I want you to be in the meeting so you can take notes and start the file.” 

“Of course,” Hamilton said dryly. 

“And you no longer need to take care of billing. You need to give some work to that new intern, Burr.” 

“What?” Hamilton couldn’t stand still any longer and angrily walked to stand in front of Washington’s desk. “But I’ve been doing it as long as I worked here. I can do it in my sleep.”

“I know, but you’re still not sleeping. I can tell. You don’t need to do it all on top of all your classes and studying for the Bar.” Washington put his hand out towards Hamilton. He pulled it away almost instantly, evidently thinking better of it. “This is why we have interns.” 

He hated that Washington was right. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep. There was just too much to do. Not enough hours in the day. 

But there was no way he would acknowledge this. 

“Is there a problem with my work?” Hamilton didn’t even give Washington a chance to answer. “No, it’s still just as high quality as it’s always been. You don’t need to worry about me. I don’t think that’s your problem anymore.” 

He was being a jackass and frankly he didn’t care. 

Washington stared him down hard, softening after a few moments. “Can we talk?” He gestured towards a chair in front of his desk. 

Hamilton held his ground. “Are you sure that would be _appropriate,_ sir?” That would show him, throw his own words back at him. Hamilton didn’t know what it would accomplish, except making Washington think he’s immature, but it felt good to say and watch the anger brew over Washington’s face. 

“Hamilton, I thought we agreed it was for the best. You said it was okay. But your demeanor and attitude is telling me something different.” 

It had been two weeks since Washington had broken up with him and the words were still ringing in Hamilton’s head. 

Okay you had to be dating to break up. But Washington had said that _things_ couldn’t happen anymore between them. 

Hamilton had fought him about it but in the end agreed because, ultimately yes he was his boss and--what else could he say?

But he had already decided one thing. He was keeping the jacket. That would show him. 

Hamilton snorted. “We’re not friends or anything else. You’re my boss. That’s it. I don’t need you to watch over me. If there’s a problem with my work, then let me know.” Hamilton started backing up towards the door. 

If things went the way he wanted, he would have been out of here two weeks ago, darting away from his problems and feelings like he always did. But he did need the money. As it was, he was struggling to pay his bills and pay for school and that was with all the overtime he had been doing too. He needed to stick it out through the end of classes and the Bar. He already had a job lined up for after law school, but that was all banking on everything going smoothly. 

So he needed to keep working here. Keep his distance from Washington. 

The anger was definitely gone from Washington’s face now, replaced with a sad kicked puppy dog look. It was time to get out of here, before Hamilton started to feel bad. 

“Now is there anything else you need, Washington?” Hamilton resumed his stiff position by the door. 

Washington straightened up as well. “No, Hamilton,” he said with a slight nod. “You’re dismissed.” 

Hamilton turned on his heel, shutting the door satisfyingly loud. 

 

2\. 

Hamilton rifled through his closet. 

_Shit._

He could have sworn there was another jacket in here. 

Did he really only have the one? The one he just had to wear out last night with his friends. The one he just had to wear when Laurens jokingly pushed him in the snow. The dirty gross New York snow. Not really something he should be wearing walking into a networking event.

He pushed aside hanger after hanger of t-shirts, work shirts, pants, until he got to the random things he had stuffed way to in back. He found a weird striped shirt he had bought from Goodwill for a Halloween costume a few years ago and--oh god. He still had it. 

Washington’s peacoat. 

It had been 5 years since he’d seen him or heard from him. Washington had come to his mind once or twice over the years, but honestly he’d been so busy, he forgot even he had the coat. 

Hamilton rubbed the cuff gently. It was way nicer and more expensive than anything he owned. He’d look ridiculous, like a little boy playing dress up, but it was better than the alternative--the gross salty dirty mess that his coat currently was. 

“Well I guess this is happening.” 

 

Hamilton had just enough schmoozing for one evening. He was great at it, of course, and had made some good contacts, but it was a little draining. Just a little too many fake people for his liking. He finished the last of his overpriced vodka tonic and had just placed it on a table when he saw him. _Washington._

It had been a long time, but-- _god damn_ \-- of course he still looked good. Better even. His clothes fitting impeccably, his nicely toned muscles standing out perfectly. 

Hamilton did feel badly how he left things with him, he really had been a jerk. It wasn’t something he wished to address again so he turned and headed towards the coat check. 

“Hamilton--hey!” 

He felt a hand on his shoulder. 

Turning around, he was face to face with his old boss once more. Fake smile plastered on he held out his hand stiffly. “Oh, hey Washington! Great to see you.” 

And-- _oh god_ \--Washington started leaning in for a hug. Hamilton felt his face burn with the awkward tension. 

Washington froze, but then held out his hand, shaking Hamilton’s hand firmly. 

“It’s good to see you, it’s been awhile,” Washington said after letting go of his hand. 

 

“Yeah, like, 5 years right?” 

“Yeah, I think so. So where are you working now?” Washington asked, looking actually interested unlike a lot of the people Hamilton spent the good part of the evening talking with. 

Hamilton felt some of the awkwardness start to drain away. Talking about himself, he could do this. “Small law firm right now, but looking for new opportunities. John Laurens, you remember him?” 

Washington nodded. “Yeah one of our interns you were pretty close with.” 

“We’re still friends, but he got a job at a huge firm. I’m hoping that will be my in.” 

Washington smiled. “I’m sure you’ll get there. You’re brilliant. You were hard to replace I’ll tell you..” He looked wistful for a moment. 

“Oh yeah?” Hamilton said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. He had heard a bit from Lafayette, who worked there a little longer than he had, but Hamilton hadn’t really wanted to hear it at the time.

“Well, we’ve had a few people in and out. You were missed quite foundly, well except for your number one fan Jefferson.” 

Hamilton found himself laughing out loud. 5 years certainly had changed him. The George Washington he knew would never had openly joked about a coworker. 

“But you didn’t hear me say that,” Washington continued. “We’re still colleagues after allI.” He took a sip of his almost empty wine glass.

Hamilton found himself getting more and more comfortable as they continued to talk. He even completely forgot about wanting to get home. 

Washington placed his wine glass on the table. “Hey you want to get out of here and grab a drink to catch up some more?” 

“I’d actually really like that. I’m kind of sick of being around all these damn lawyers,” Hamilton said muttering the last part. 

Washington chuckled. “I know what you mean. Okay let’s go get our coats and we’ll head to a bar I know just around the corner from here.” 

Hamilton followed along happily, reaching into his pocket to find his number. 

Once Hamilton stepped up to the counter behind Washington, it all came crashing down. 

_Oh my god. The jacket. THE FUCKING JACKET._

Hamilton stood frozen in his spot, while Washington put on his jacket he had just picked up. 

Hamilton was contemplating his next move, for the least amount of embarrassment, since there were no sudden sinkholes opening up in the floor to swallow him up. 

He could just leave the coat. _“Haha would you believe it, I actually left my coat at home?”_ But the weather had turned lately and it was starting to feel like winter out there…

He could say he lost his number. That was more believable...even though the number was currently clutched in his hand.

He must have stood there for too long. Washington was eyeing him. “Um, Hamilton did you want to get your coat?” 

Hamilton knew his entire face must be on fire, but he tried to play it off as cool as he could. “Oh yeah, hey you know I don’t know if I have my number..” he said as the number dropped to the floor. Kill me just kill me now. 

“Oh haha, there it is.” Hamilton bent down to pick it up, the paper now wet in his hands from sweat. He placed the number on the counter for the attendant who didn’t even seem to notice any tension before going back to get his-- _Washington’s_ \--coat. 

Well, his night was over. Any chance of continuing the nice pleasant conversation from earlier was gone. Hamilton knew he had to get out of there as soon as possible. 

“Well you know what, sorry, I think I actually have to get going. I forgot big case tomorrow, shouldn’t have too late of a night.” It was the worst possible excuse, Washington knew him. He knew Hamilton never cared that much about his sleep schedule. But it was the only option to save his pride and not have to witness what Washington might say about Hamilton wearing his jacket after all these years. 

“Are you sure--,” Washington started to say as the attendant handed Hamilton his jacket. “Hey, isn’t that my---”

“Sorry, gotta go,” Hamilton called back as he ran towards the door. 

 

3\. 

Hamilton heard a ding of a new email come in, he gave it a glance, up from the briefing he was currently writing when a name caught his eye: _Washington._

His stomach settling somewhere around floor level, he minimized the document and opened the email. 

_Nice to see my coat is still being taken care of. Sorry you had to run out of there, can we make it up tomorrow night? I’d still really like to catch up. --GW_

The coat he had thrown in the back of the closet that night and had been thinking about taking to Goodwill. 

Hamilton cracked his knuckles as he contemplated a response. 

He had hoped that Washington wouldn’t even bother reaching out again, let alone address the elephant-sized jacket in the room. 

Things had been going so good with Washington, and he did get a chance to dry clean his actual coat that actually fit him...

But was it worth it? Worth reliving the awkwardness, worth opening up the wounds of their non relationship-relationship again? 

Nope, Hamilton ultimately decided deleting the email and continuing to work on his brief.

 

_If there is a God, he really is actively working against me._

For even after 5 years of no contact, a week after the evening of jacket awkwardness, here was Washington-- _again._ He was currently standing outside of a courtroom, as Hamilton himself was walking past. 

Hamilton tried to pass without notice, but he must have stared a few seconds too long. Washington, who was talking to someone else at the time, caught eyes with Hamilton. Hamilton felt the color rise to his face as Washington’s eyes widened. Washington whispered to the person he had been talking to before walking over to Hamilton with a wave. Hamilton attempted to smile back. 

Hamilton guessed that this was what he deserved after not responding to the email. 

“Oh hey! Running into each other again. What are the chances?” 

_Way to go, Hamilton. Real smooth._

“So you still have my jacket, huh?” 

Well, he just came right out and said it. Washington was looking at him expectantly waiting for an answer, a hint of a smile on his face. 

“Hah, yeah..” Hamilton briefly considered bolting again, but knew he’d probably have to explain himself sooner or later. Might as well get it over with. “Uhh..funny story,” Hamilton rubbed the back of his neck. “I forgot I even had the thing with me that night. My only winter coat got dirty, like a big gross salty dirty mess, so I had to wear yours. Sorry I ran out of there, I was embarrassed, uhh...still am.”

Hamilton had been unable to make eye contact through his whole explanation, but chanced it now, to find Washington chuckling. 

Hamilton found himself laughing along with Washington despite it all. It was all rather ridiculous. 

“You could have just told me that, I thought we were having a good conversation before that too--” 

“We were!” Hamilton cut across, “I’m sorry, I just was way too embarrassed, what can I say?” 

“Is that why you didn’t respond to my email then?” 

Hamilton nodded. “Uh--yeah--sorry.” With everything out in the open now, there was no way he could now say no, especially with Washington currently standing so close to him, smiling down shyly at him, his broad shoulders right there in his impeccably tailored suit. “But we can definitely have that drink. If the offer still stands, and you promise not to make fun of me too much.” 

Washington laughed again, his eyes crinkling. “Oh, I make no promises of that. You looked uh--” he cleared his throat, looking mildly embarrassed himself. “Well, yes the offer still stands.” 

 

Hamilton was staring up at the ceiling fan as it slowly cycled around, gripping onto the expensive cotton sheets pulled up to his shoulders. He had been trying and failing to sleep for what felt like hours. He couldn’t get comfortable, everything was way too nice and stiff. His mind too restless, still reeling from the events of the evening. He turned to look at Washington asleep beside him, staring at his bare back exposed above the covers. 

He didn’t plan that his night was going to end this way. 

He and Washington had met for drinks. Washington much more relaxed and looser than Hamilton remembered. Hamilton hadn’t even drank that much, but next thing he knew, Washington was leaning towards him in their shared cab home. Hamilton couldn’t deny the feelings that he had suppressed all those years coming to the surface again. 

And so here he was, clothes thrown about the room, wide awake in Washington’s massive penthouse. 

With his mind whirling away, he knew sleep was impossible. He slipped out of the bed quietly, trying not to wake Washington. 

4\. 

“Hamilton. Earth to Hamilton.” 

Hamilton shook his head slightly. He had been looking out the window, lost in his thoughts. 

He turned back to his friend John Laurens, who was seated across the table from him.

“You okay?”

Hamilton felt himself ready to snap. It was his fault that Hamilton was even here. Hamilton hadn’t even wanted to come. Laurens had pestered him into coming out tonight and he should have listened to his instincts. 

He’d had such a short fuse lately. Work had been stressful, lots of long nights and having to work with incompetent people. He didn’t think he could hate someone as much as he hated Jefferson... and then he started working with John Adams. 

He of course couldn’t keep his big mouth shut about it either. Yelling at another employee and calling him a ‘motherfuckstick’ wasn’t really the way to keep a job. Another toe out of line and he was out, or so one of the partners told him. Even though he was looking for a way out at his small law firm, this was not what he meant. 

And then there was this...whatever it was with Washington. 

He sighed, pushing down his anger. He didn’t need to take it out on Laurens, who was just trying to be a good friend. “Sorry, a lot on my mind lately.” 

“Including a certain hunky former boss?” 

Hamilton hated the way he could never hide his emotions, he felt his face heat up. He took a drink from his still mostly full beer sitting on the table in front of him to delay answering. 

“Come on, Ham, spill.” Hamilton should have known this was Laurens’ plan all along when he invited him out. “You know you want to tell me.” 

He did, god damnit. He needed to tell someone. 

Hamilton took a long sip of his beer. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Fine, but I don’t want the judgement.” 

Laurens smirked. “As your best friend, you know I can’t promise that.” 

Hamilton of course gave in, he always did. “Fuck you. Fine. What do you want to know?” 

“What’s going on with you two? Last thing I heard you hooked up with him and left in the middle of the night. Or so you texted me at 3 am.” 

Hamilton sighed. “I don’t know...I think it’s just hooking up? But I’m pretty sure Washington is thinking it’s more than that.” 

“Do you want that? And have you talked with him about it?” 

Hamilton chugged the rest of his drink, avoiding yet another question. 

Laurens rolled his eyes. “You gotta stop doing this, Alex. Sometimes you need to have these conversations...” 

“Judgment train rolling on through right on time..” Hamilton muttered over him. 

Laurens looked at him seriously. “You always say you’re ‘bad at relationships’, and yet you don’t even talk to the other person about it.” 

“Hey, I do!” 

“Okay, sure whatever.” 

Laurens was right, he was always right. 

 

A few nights later Washington texted him: _Hey! Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I want to make you something :)_

This was definitely bordering on ‘not just hooking up’ territory, but the image of Washington standing over a stove, adorable apron tied around his waist popped into his head..

Hamilton could feel the start of maybe a headache forming, but he had a long day at work and had worked through lunch--food and a friendly face would definitely help.

_Sure when should I come over_

 

It was even better than in his imagination. Washington obviously had an apron, albeit a sharp black one with his initials embroidered at the top, not the rainbow striped one Hamilton had imagined. 

And then real life Washington was leaning over with a spoon of homemade pasta. “Here try this.” 

Hamilton did and it was heavenly. 

“Oh, um, Alex, you have a little something…” Washington leaned over, wiping something off his chin. _Alex. He was Alex now?_

But it was only a fleeting thought, as his space was filled up with the bulk of George Washington--making him dinner in his nice apron, looking hot as hell in his button down shirt, perfectly cuffed exposing his toned arms, opened at the throat. They fell silent looking deeply at each other for a few moments. Hamilton couldn’t handle it any longer and pulled Washington to him, their lips meeting together. 

Washington broke the kiss for a second, gripped him tightly in his strong arms, pushing him against the counter, his breath hot on Hamilton’s neck as he positioned one leg between Hamilton’s. Hamilton gasped as Washington ground his hips gently, his hands tucked in his hair, finding his lips once more. 

Hamilton broke off panting after a few minutes, he had heard a bubbling sound. “Oh shit, the pasta!” 

Washington pulled himself away and ran to the stove, his shirt now delightfully wrinkled. 

 

The pasta had been amazing and thankfully wasn’t completely ruined, but didn’t do anything for his head. He had hoped that the dull pain that had been pulsing in his head would go away with eating, but it was now getting worse. He used to get migraines all the time when he was in undergrad, and now they had been recently making a reappearance. 

He usually could work through it though, it wasn’t yet a full blown migraine and he had worse headaches before. Just in case, he had popped a couple IBuprofen when he went to the bathroom. He was trying not to just run out on Washington. 

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to finish this bottle of wine with me?” Washington was filling up his glass. Hamilton shook his head. He’d had one glass with dinner and regretted it. His headache wasn’t letting up. “No, no I’m good.” Washington gave him a look but didn’t question him further. They made their way to the couch, Washington scooting himself closer to Hamilton.

“So how’s work? You haven’t been talking about it lately.” Washington had an arm draped across the back of the couch, lightly drawing circles into Hamilton’s shoulder. 

Hamilton leaned closer to him, closing his eyes at the gentle touch and the lights that were starting to bother him--not a great sign. 

“Horrible,” Hamilton admitted. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you need to talk about it?” 

Hamilton should have just gotten up and left right then and there. His headache was definitely approaching full blown migraine. He was never one to listen to his body when he was sick and he had been wanting to vent about his job anyways..so out came all Hamilton’s frustrations and anxieties about his job. And the incident with John Adams.

Washington was attempting to be comforting, and trying to say the right things, but there was almost a line drawn that he didn’t want to step over. 

“I know I shouldn’t have said it, in front of everyone, but he was being rude to me and I couldn't keep my stupid mouth closed,” Hamilton finished with. Now he felt even shittier, all his problems in the forefront of his mind and now he started to feel dizzy and nauseous. 

“No, it wasn’t great on either of your parts. I’m not going to lecture you about it, not your boss anymore…” 

Hamilton felt a heat climb up the back of his neck, and he rubbed at it. “No..you are not.” 

They sat in an awkward silence for a few moments. Hamilton was about to take this as his cue to leave, he needed his migraine medicine (only reason he had gone to the doctor was because Laurens forced him to), his bed, and a nice dark room. Just as he was about to make his exit, Washington gave him a serious look. “So, Alex.” There was his actual name again. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.” 

This was about the last thing Hamilton wanted to deal with on a good day, and he really didn’t want to do it with his head about to explode from the pain. 

Hamilton had ignored all the warning signs and tried to work through it, this was all his own fault, but if he didn’t leave right now, he might puke all over Washington’s fancy couch. 

He closed his eyes and held his head. 

“Alex..are you okay?” 

Hamilton let out a groan. “No..I’m sorry….we’ll have a take a rain check on the conversation. I have to go...now.” He tried to leave as quickly, but cautiously as his aching head would allow. 

He didn’t get very far. 

He made it to the edge of the living room, a wave of nauseousness coming over him, leaning up against a door frame willing himself to go further. 

And then Washington was there, a gentle touch on his shoulder blade. 

“Alex, is this a migraine? I thought you said you didn’t get those anymore?” 

Hamilton didn’t even want to begin to unpack that. Washington had remembered that random fact he had mentioned once. “You’re not going to make it home. You can stay here tonight, you can have my room.” 

“No, no..it’s okay…” Hamilton mumbled but allowed himself to be drawn into the bedroom. The lovely cool dark bedroom. 

He stopped protesting as he laid down on the bed fully clothed, closing his eyes immediately. 

“Do you need anything? Or do you want to just go to bed?” Washington said quietly from the edge of the bed.

“Bed.” He knew he sounded horribly pathetic but he couldn’t even begin to care. 

“What about your clothes? Or at least your shoes?” 

Hamilton attempted to take his shoes off without sitting up, it didn’t really work. 

He felt his shoes being pulled off. “Here, I got it.” 

“Thanks,” he managed. He started to shimmy out of his jeans, Washington helping him again. 

“Here, why don’t you get under the covers.” Hamilton moved as Washington tucked the covers around him.

A few minutes later something cold and wet was placed on his forehead. “Here, I brought you this washcloth,” Washington whispered, brushing some of his hair to the side. “I left some water as well. If you need anything I’ll be in the living room.” It felt as though Washington kissed the top of his head before quietly closing the door behind him. Hamilton’s head was hurting too much to think of anything else, but he briefly questioned it before slowly drifting off to sleep. 

 

Hamilton awoke a few hours later, his head still hurting. He stared up at the familiar ceiling fan. 

He tried to sit up to see if he could attempt making it home. It was manageable, he at least didn’t feel like he would throw up now. He needed to get home to take his medicine, that would probably knock it out. He pulled his pants on, and checked his phone still tucked into the pocket. The phone light was making his headache worse, but he was at least able to order an Uber before putting it back into his pocket again. 

Washington was stretched out on the couch, snoring softly. 

Hamilton never did well being sick, but it was kinda nice he had someone looking out for him. Washington was always doing that for him. 

 

He slipped through the door as quiet as he could. 

5\. 

_Good night! I’ll see you tomorrow for Thanksgiving!_

Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. Right. He’d almost forgotten after his horrible day at work. He put his head in his hands for what felt like the 100th time that day. His hands desperately trying to squeeze out the worst moments of the day that were playing on a loop. 

_“You were already on a thin line Hamilton. And if it wasn’t the holidays I would have you fired.”_

He didn’t even know what had come over him. He shouldn’t have yelled. But he had just been doing his job and he knew he was right!

He groaned and picked up his phone, desperate to have something else to think about. 

_Yeah I’ll be there._ He sent the text off and then hopped on Facebook, nothing got his mind off his problems quicker than looking at the lives of others. He scrolled to see that his college roommate had had his kid. He felt mildly better already. 

 

Hamilton hated Thanksgiving. He liked to imagine it didn’t even exist, problematic holiday that it is. He had the occasional friend invite here or there, when they would worry about him spending a holiday alone. But he was always fine, only thing he liked about Thanksgiving was having the day off to eat pizza in his underwear and marathon West Wing. 

But now he had to leave his bed, then get into nice clothes and go meet George’s closest friends. It was about the last thing he needed or wanted to do right now.

He pulled his covers over his head and played out in his mind texting Washington and saying he was sick. Hamilton laughed at himself. When had he ever admitted to being sick? 

He just had to do it. That’s what people who were _officially dating_ did right? 

They had finally had that rain check conversation once Hamilton’s migraine had gone away. 

 

“We’ve been seeing each other for a while now. I think it’s time we made things a little more official, what do you say?” Washington said almost seemingly out of nowhere one night. 

“Uhhhh…” It was not his most eloquent or romantic responses ever. 

“Not really the answer I was hoping for.” 

“I’m sorry! It’s not a no! I just--can I be honest with you?” 

Washington nodded, his face still drenched with disappointment. “Of course.” 

“Are you sure you want to date me?” Washington opened his mouth to answer, Hamilton shook his head. “Let me finish. I am horrible at relationships. Horrible. Somehow, someway I always manage to screw them up. Look how much of a jerk I was to you when you broke things off before, I--” 

Washington spoke over him, cutting him off. “That was different. I’m not your boss anymore.” 

“Yeah, I know. But still I was an ass and I didn’t have to be. Why would you want to sign up for this again?” 

“I still like you, Hamilton. We had a good thing going 5 years ago, it just didn’t seem right as your boss, it broke my heart to break things off. I’ve thought about this and want to give it a go.” 

Washington had looked at him so seriously. None of his previous relationships had ever been started so formally, usually just fell into place. Washington was a little older than him and always so serious about most things, so he guessed it made sense. But it was hard to commit to this. Hamilton so desperately wanted to tell him yes, they could try it, but it would end in failure just like things always did, and it would be his fault. 

He told this to Washington, who simply shook his head. “You can’t live your life like that, always thinking the worst and expecting disaster. And look at me? You think I’m great at this either? Here I am in my 40s and nothing serious has panned out in a while.” 

Hamilton always was a sucker for the sad pleading eyes, so he could feel himself giving in.

So here they were. Dating. Meeting friends who were like his family and having Thanksgiving dinner together. The American fucking dream. 

 

Hamilton stopped to catch his breath in front of Washington’s building. He’d ran--or as close as he could get to running--all the way from the subway. Of course, he was late. It wasn’t entirely his fault, stupid MTA. It definitely wasn’t the fact that he laid in bed until 5 minutes before he had to leave. He would blame the MTA for the rest of his days. 

He pushed back some flyaways and did his best to dry the sweat stains that was already forming under his arms. After being buzzed in by the door man he took a breath as he rode up the elevator. This was fine, he could do this. 

“Hey,” Washington greeted, his dimples popping out. He gave Hamilton a quick kiss on the cheek. “You okay?” 

Of course-- _of course_ \--Washington noticed. Hamilton knew his face was a fucking open book. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just annoyed about being late. I’m sorry.” 

Washington waved a hand. “You’re fine. We’re all in the dining room. Can I get you something to drink?” 

Drink in hand, Hamilton followed Washington into the dining room, trying to appear as casual as possible. Of course coming late meant that everyone was already seated and all staring, sizing him up as he stepped into the room. 

“Hey, everyone this is Alexander.” 

A chorus of hellos and waves greeted him. He recognized a few faces from his time in Washington’s office. 

Hamilton followed Washington around the table and squeezed in his seat next to him. 

 

The dishes were just starting to be passed when a woman across the table reached out a hand towards him. “So nice to finally meet you, Alexander. I’m Martha.” She had a pleasant cheery face, dimples in her dark cheeks when she wildly smiled at him as she shook his hand. 

“Call me, Alex,” he responded. Martha was Washington’s best friend, had been since childhood. He’d been interested to meet her. 

“So, Martha,” Alex said while scooping mashed potatoes on his plate. “George talks about you very reverently, but not a lot of details. What do you do for a living?” 

Martha smiled, the dimples popping in again. “I’m a realtor.” 

“Oh,cool. Sold any nice homes lately?” 

She nodded. “Yeah, just closed on one the other day in New Jersey to a very nice young couple.” 

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have made a remark about New Jersey, but he held his tongue. 

“So you two have been friends for a long time?” 

George took the lead. “Yes, every since we were in elementary school. Martha had come up to me while we were swinging on the swings and told me I had been on too long. I tried to argue with her that I hadn't been on long enough yet, and then pointed out that the boy next to me had been on it all of recess. We then became the unofficial swing monitors and have been by each other’s side ever since.” 

It painted an adorable picture of mini-Washington that Hamilton would have loved to see. 

“He definitely had a way of making a good point, even then. Should have know he was meant to be a lawyer!” Martha added. The two looked at each other so fondly that if Hamilton hadn’t known that George was gay, he might have been jealous.

“You’re a lawyer too, right?” 

His stomach dropped. With difficulty he swallowed his first bite of turkey and nodded. 

“What firm are you at now? I know you started out at George’s.” 

Martha was just doing her job as Washington’s friend and asking him the right questions about himself. But Hamilton hoped there wouldn’t be too much more work talk. This is not what he needed. 

“Adams and associates.”

“Sure, okay. And this is where I nod my head and pretend like that actually means something to me.” 

Hamilton smiled genuinely for the first time that night. 

It didn’t last for long. 

“How’s the dog injury case going?” one of Washington’s friends asked. Hamilton was too annoyed to learn her name. 

“Great. I think we’re going to get the full amount. We’ve got some great witnesses.” 

Hamilton continued to pour himself more wine. Was Martha the only non-lawyer here? It seemed that was all anyone else was capable of talking about. 

“So Alex, George tells us that you’re a lawyer yourself. What kind of law do you practice?” 

Hamilton was quite proud of himself. He didn’t sound nearly as annoyed as he was starting to feel. 

He wasn’t as great of an actor as he thought. Washington knew him too well. He felt Washington’s eyes on him as he stood up to clear dishes. Everyone was just about done eating and he wanted to get away from the talk. 

Hamilton gathered a few plates and headed towards the kitchen. 

He was rinsing off the plates and putting them in the dishwasher when he felt a hand on the small of his back. 

“Hey you don’t need to do this. You’re a guest.” 

Hamilton shrugged as he grabbed the plates that Washington was holding and placed them on the counter. 

“It’s not a big deal. I want to help.” 

Washington’s massive eyebrows creased. “What’s going on?” 

“What do you mean?” he said continuing to not make eye contact. 

“Something is wrong. You’ve looked off since you walked in tonight.” 

God, he hated his own stupid betraying face. 

“It’s nothing.” He started to rinse off a plate that Washington had brought in. 

“Did something happen at work? I thought you’d jump at the chance to debate with these fellow lawyers.” 

“I was just trying to make a good impression.” Hamilton put the plate in the dishwasher. Probably with a little too much force. 

He still refused to look at Washington, but he was giving him that look. He knew it. 

Washington didn’t say anything. Hamilton turned. The puppy dog eyes were back. Hamilton whipped back towards the sink. 

“I’m not going to talk about this now,” he bit out. 

“So something is wrong.” 

“Of course there god damn is. It’s Thanksgiving and I don’t want to talk about it!” He probably shouldn’t have raised his voice. He grabbed another plate and turned so he didn’t have to see the hurt look on Washington’s face. 

“Everything alright in here?” 

It was Nathaniel Greene, one of Washington’s lawyer friends. 

Hamilton couldn’t even pretend. He didn’t even turn around. He just stood at the sink gripping a plate. 

“Uh, yea Nate. We’re fine.” 

Hamilton attempting to take a calming breath. Washington came up behind him and started to rub his shoulders-- _when did they get so tense?_

Hamilton sighed. “I should go.” 

“What? Why?” Washington stopped mid massage. “I can tell my friends to ease up. They won’t stay too late anyways.”

Hamilton stepped away from the sink and from Washington. “I’m not good company right now. I’m sorry I really tried.” 

“Alex….” 

Hamilton just shook his head. 

He stepped back through the kitchen to the dining room feeling the stares of Washington’s friends. And with the picture of Washington’s sad eyes and mouth set in a line frozen in his mind, Hamilton left. 

1.

Washington swiped his phone open, his last text to Hamilton still staring up at him, unreplied. 

He was trying to keep his distance; Hamilton was clearly upset about something at work. He would open up when he was ready. 

But he was back at work today after Thanksgiving and Washington was worried about him. He still hadn’t hear from him.

His phone vibrated as he got a new text from Martha. 

_Thanks for dinner yesterday! I’m glad I got to meet Alexander. I hope he’s alright._

Washington had told everyone that Hamilton had gotten sick and had to leave. Martha was the only one who knew the real reason. 

He jumped at every text, desperate for it to be from Alex. But by the end of the day Washington still hadn’t heard from Hamilton. 

 

_Hi you’ve reached Alexander Hamilton--_

Washington jabbed his phone, ending the call. Now he was even more worried-- but was Hamilton just ignoring him or did something happen? 

He’d been worried and unfocused all day. Time to go with the last option. Go to Hamilton’s apartment. 

This was the last option because a) he wasn’t totally positive where Hamilton lived. He had dropped him off a couple times, but Hamilton never asked to be dropped off right in front of his place. He always watched as Hamilton walked down the block from the building they stopped in front of. And b) if Hamilton was already ignoring him, going to his apartment which he clearly had issues with would make him more angry. 

He was worried enough--this was the only thing now to do. 

 

As he left his office and took the elevator down, he opened up his Maps app on his phone. He found where Hamilton usually asked to be dropped off and figured he could go from there. 

Once his cab dropped him off on the corner, he walked into the closet apartment building and checked the buzzers. No Hamilton. 

He was started to get discouraged as he exited his 5th building. Hamilton was not making this easy for him. He was thinking about trying to call Hamilton again as he rounded the next corner. There was a red brick walkup with fire escapes ahead. He walked to the front door and quickly ran his finger down the list of names next to the buzzers. _Finally_ \--next to 4A was the white label that said _Hamilton._ Washington pressed the button. He waited a few seconds but there was no crackle through the intercom or buzzing to open the door. He tried again. 

By the 4th time, he finally heard a garbled “Hello?” 

“Alex, it’s me.” 

“How did you--” 

“Please just let me up.” 

There was a few beats of silence before the door in front of him buzzed loudly. 

 

Washington rushed up the 4 flights of stairs. When he got to the 4th floor, a door at the end of the hallway was already ajar. Checking to make sure it was 4A, he knocked on it lightly as he pushed it open. 

“Hello?” 

Inside was dark, illuminated slightly from the street lamp coming in through the window. The place looked very small, very cramped and very cluttered--about what he expected. 

“Ugh, hi,” came a groan from couch. “How did you find me?” 

Washington didn’t need to get into that now--Hamilton’s lack of response all day suddenly making sense. “Oh no. Another migraine?” 

“Yeah..” Hamilton said sounding near tears. “It’s really bad.” 

“Alex..honey..” Washington closed the door and knelt next to the couch. Hamilton’s eyes were closed, his face the familiar pale and clammy. Washington kneaded his fingers through Hamilton’s hair and rubbed the back of his head. “You should have texted me. I’ve been trying to reach you all day.” 

“I’m sorry--” Hamilton’s voice broke, his face contorted. “I--” 

“Shh. You don’t need to talk about it now.” Washington continued to massage his head in what he hoped was a comforting way. His eyes finally were adjusting to the darkness and he got a better look at Hamilton. “Honey...you’re still in your suit.” 

“I know--ugh--I tried to go to work. They sent me home..” 

“Have you taken your medicine?” Washington knew the answer but he still asked anyway.

Hamilton turned his head away. “I ran out…” 

“You--” He sighed, biting down the instinctual angry response. Now was not the time to get Hamilton more upset than he already was. There would definitely be a discussion later.  
“Have you eaten anything?” 

“No…I know. All not great things..” 

Washington knew Hamilton was never great at taking care of himself, but he still didn’t like to hear it. 

“You just try to get some rest. Did you put in a new prescription?” 

“No...I just need to reorder online.” 

“Okay. I’ll figure it out. Where’s your phone or computer?” 

Hamilton gestured vaguely towards the door behind him. Helpful. 

Washington kissed Hamilton on his forehead and stood up. “And your keys?”

“My keys?” Hamilton opened his eyes slightly. 

“I’m gonna need them if I”m gonna go and pick up you stuff.” 

“You don’t need to--” 

“Alex.” Washington put a hand out. “You’re sick and the only way to get better is to take medicine and eat something.” 

“I guess.” He gestured behind him again. “Keys are in my coat. I think it’s over there. I ripped it off when I came home.” 

 

When Washington came back he woke Hamilton up to give him his medicine. Hamilton was more out of it than he had been, so was a much more compliant Hamilton. He sat up without protest. 

“Okay, you should get into your bed and change you’ll be much more comfortable.” Hamilton nodded and stood up cautiously. 

“You really don’t have to do this..” Hamilton said as Washington put his hands out to help him out of his work clothes. 

He was probably hovering too much. “Okay, if that’s what you want.” 

Hamilton sighed and pulled his shirt off over his head. “Sorry, it’s been a long time since someone has taken care of me. I’m not used to it.” 

“Anything you need, I’m here for you.” 

 

Hamilton was surprised to see him the next morning. He sat up rubbing his eyes, a little color back in his cheeks, but still not looking 100%. “Oh, um, Washington. I thought you would have left.” 

Though he had slept horribly on the lumpy couch, he smiled seeing Hamilton up and looking more like his regular self. Washington had been up for a couple hours, he had been working on straightening up the place.

Hamilton sat up further on his bed looking around. 

“Do you want anything to eat? I have some soup if you want it.” 

“You got me soup?? God, what did I do to deserve this??”

Washington shrugged. “I got a couple things last night, I thought you would need something in your stomach and all you have is beer and ketchup..so…” 

Hamilton colored slightly. “Hey don’t knock the staples in my pantry...but seriously I was being such a jackass on Thanksgiving and yet here you are still being amazing.” 

Washington said nothing, but felt himself blush as well. He continued to clean up as Hamilton got up and went to the bathroom.

Washington’s chest tightened at the sight of Hamilton as he came out of the bathroom and padded towards the couch in his boxers and wrinkled shirt. He still looked pale, but his eyes were more clear and bright than they had been. 

“George Washington, put down the dirty jeans and come have a seat.” Hamilton patted the spot next to him. 

Washington sat down. “How are you feeling this morning? Do you want water or anything?” 

Hamilton was looking at him strangely. “Stop worrying about me for a second. I’m fine. I mean..sorry..it’s just hard for me to admit when I’m sick. Okay. Honestly, I’m still exhausted and achy. Probably shouldn’t go into work today…” 

“It’s Saturday.” 

“Oh, well and out of it too, apparently. Well anyways don’t worry about me. I need to talk about you and how great you are. You came and found my apartment to take care of me. Even when I was a jerk to you on Thanksgiving. I’m so sorry. You’re amazing.” 

Hamilton snaked his hand over, finding Washington’s with a gentle squeeze. 

“You’re my boyfriend and I care about you,” Washington said as he squeezed back, placing a gentle kiss on the side of his head. “Of course I was worried, you weren’t answering my texts or calls. I thought maybe you were ignoring me..” 

“Well I was at the start of the day..” Hamilton said with a shrug. “I wasn’t ready to talk about it.” 

“Well...I’m here for you when you are ready.” 

Hamilton gave him long look. “God, I want to kiss you right now..but I haven’t brushed my teeth since yesterday and I definitely puked when I came home and--” his stomach growled loudly. “And apparently I’m super hungry right now.” 

“Here let me heat you up some soup.” 

“You’ve done enough for me. I think I can manage heating up soup in the microwave.” 

“Fair enough.” 

 

Once Hamilton was finally feeling better, he offered to take Washington out to dinner that Sunday. 

He said he wanted to make up for the shitty Thanksgiving he had given him. Washington stood outside of Hamilton’s favorite Puerto Rican restaurant waiting for him. He was about to just check his phone to see where Hamilton was, when out of the corner of his eye he saw someone approach wearing an oversized jacket. 

It was Hamilton. Wearing _his_ jacket again. 

Washington burst out laughing. Hamilton looked mildly embarrassed. 

“Well this was the date we should have had. I figured this was a good way to make it up to you for all the shitty things I’ve done lately.” 

Washington gazed down at Hamilton. Though Hamilton looked slightly ridiculous, he couldn’t help but be slightly into it. Washington wove his fingers into his hair, kissing him lightly. “I can’t wait to take you home and slip that jacket off,” he whispered into his ear. 

“Let’s eat quickly then.” Hamilton said dragging him into the restaurant. 

Hamilton was not true to his word though and had yet to eat much of his dinner. It wasn’t like him. Washington had come to realize that to Hamilton eating--when he actually did eat-- was a race to eat as fast as you possibly could so you could spend the rest of your time working. 

He placed his fork down and took a breath. “Hey, Wash--George.” 

With most people he’d prefer to be called by his last name. But as Hamilton spoke his name he felt a bubble of warmth. 

“I’ve been doing some thinking.” 

Never the words anyone wanted to hear, but there was no way Hamilton could be that cruel--bringing him here, wearing his jacket to break up? 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t overly enthusiastic when you first said you wanted to be official.” Okay, this was sounding much better. Washington didn’t want to interrupt. 

“And I’ve been kind of holding myself back. I didn’t let you see my place, meet my friends...I felt like if I held myself at a distance that when you...uh inevitably broke things off again, it wouldn’t hurt too much.” 

“Wait..are you still upset about me breaking up with you when I was your boss?” 

Hamilton shrugged. “I guess I was. I didn’t really admit it to myself though until recently.” 

Washington wasn’t expecting this. He didn’t quite know what to say. 

“It’s stupid, I know. Don’t look at me like that.” 

“It could never have worked. I was your _boss.”_

“When we first starting hooking up I didn’t really see the harm in it. We were still fine together at work and getting our shit done. It wasn’t a big deal.” 

“But as your boss I could only go so far into a relationship. It wouldn’t have worked in the long run. You were always working on furthering your career..and what if they found out about this? Huh? That would have set you back for sure.”  
“That’s true..” 

“I tried to tell you this all those years ago, but you didn’t listen.” 

Hamilton looked a bit sheepish. “I’m stubborn, what can I say.” 

“Well we both are.” 

Hamilton sighed and reached out to grab one of Washington’s hand he had sitting on the table. ”I brought this all up because I’m trying to be more honest with you and try to work past this. You clearly care about me enough to track me down and stuck around even when I was sick. I guess I can try to be more fully committed because you clearly are. You probably aren’t gonna yank this all away…” 

“I do care about you I’ve been telling you this…” 

“I know. I’m sorry. I care about you too. This relationship is different--special. I’m gonna work on being better for you.” 

Washington leaned across their--thankfully--small table to give him a kiss. 

“Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that. I maybe shouldn’t have pressured you when you clearly didn’t want to have that talk..” 

“Hey now, I just apologized no need to blame yourself. Now that that’s over I can finally eat like normal and we can get out of here.” Hamilton proceeded to eat with his regular gusto. 

 

“Now you know why I never wanted you to come to my place..” Hamilton had been whining about his place since they walked into Washington’s building. 

“It was about what I expected.” 

“I was at least going to straighten up the first time I let you come over.” 

“It was really fine,” Washington said as he unlocked his door. 

Hamilton trudged on as if Washington hadn’t spoken at all. “Look at how neat and tidy it is here. And this view.” 

“Your place was cozy.” 

“That’s one word for it--” 

“Hamilton. Please shut up.” 

Washington pushed him up against the back of the couch, kissing him deeply as he unbuttoned the coat. Tossing the jacket behind him, he led Hamilton into his bedroom. 

 

Washington felt himself wake up but he didn’t want to open his eyes yet. Last night had been wonderful and he didn’t want to ruin it by the empty bed next to him, with the expected note or text from Hamilton explaining his absence. 

“Good morning sleepyhead.” 

Washington’s eyes shot open. Hamilton was lying next to him, his fingers gently caressing his cheek. “Alex...you’re still here.” 

“What can I say. The view’s amazing.”


End file.
